


lover, killer

by secretofthewillow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Female Reader, No use of y/n, Oneshot, Room of Requirement, Slytherin Reader, Young Tom Riddle, but it’s very vague so don’t worry, fem reader - Freeform, mentions/implications of murder (not the reader), not a toxic/manipulative relationship dynamic, tom is still tom but he’s a little sweeter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretofthewillow/pseuds/secretofthewillow
Summary: He could kill me, she thought. He could kill me and be done with it. I know too much already.But he didn’t.
Relationships: Tom Riddle & Reader, Tom Riddle/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	lover, killer

The stone halls of Hogwarts seemed to loom in front of the girl, the green tinted light of the late evening softly soaking them. It was past curfew, and a suffocating silence blanketed the school that had been bustling full of life only a few hours prior. 

As she stood outside the entrance of the Slytherin common room, something tugged uncomfortably at her stomach. The common room was a sanctuary of emerald, water, velvet, and leather; stepping outside of its safety in the deep night caused hairs to rise on her arms and knots to turn in her abdomen. The silence held its breath, and for a moment, she felt like prey.

Padding softly, too afraid to make a sound, she made her way through the low roofed and damp halls of the dungeons, slowly but surely entering the upper floors of Hogwarts. The air was lighter, smelling of old parchment and dust, and the silence seemed to exhale. Faint moonlight filtered in through the paned glass windows and shone pleasant rays of blue and white onto the silent passerby.

She was careful enough not to wake any grumpy portraits, as she had not drawn her wand and casted lumos. Being a seventh year, she grew accustomed to her way around the castle, and she would prefer not to be found walking around the school out past midnight. Occasionally, she would pause when one hall cut off to another, peeking around the corner to make sure there were no other souls present to witness her sneaking about.

On the fifth floor, she turned down a hall that she knew the Room of Requirement often revealed itself in - exactly what she had been seeking out. The Slytherin common room often lulled her to a deep sleep on the occasional difficult night, though the giant squid menacingly passing by the glass windows was not necessarily relaxing, and thus she looked elsewhere for comfort. Small torches charmed a soft blue were set up every few metres on the limestone walls, as the moonlight did not reach this cut off and unused area.

Soon enough, the large slab of untouched stone stood in front of her, reaching to the top of the hallway’s high ceiling, unassuming to any student, except to the ones who _knew._ The Room of Requirement skillfully hid itself in plain sight.

Designs cut themselves into the stone as the Room’s exterior slowly shifted to suit the girl’s needs, but the sound was interrupted by a faint pair of footsteps walking down the hall. She whipped her head around, and stood completely still, watching as the figure made its way towards her.

Tom.

She recognized it as him from his collected saunter. It was not surprising to see him wander the halls this late - he was a prefect, and had the privilege of being wherever he pleased, whenever.

Something struck her as off.

The direction he came from had nothing but the girl’s lavatory, and she understood instantly.

There was no indication on his person that anything was out of the ordinary. His hair was neatly curled, and his uniform looked spotless and well taken care of as it always was. To anyone else, there would be no reason to believe anything unusual had happened, as Tom was simply another student, walking down the halls of Hogwarts.

However, she understood that glint which juxtaposed his dark eyes as he came closer. In her time spent with Tom Riddle, it became unmistakeable; whenever he accomplished something, came one step closer to bringing his ambitions to fruition - his eyes would bear that expression. It unsettled her in a way unexplainable by words of the mouth. Every learned instinct from a millennia of evolution told her to  run. It was a look akin to that of a predator.

She knew what it meant when he looked like that. She knew that he had killed again.

Yet, Tom did nothing to warrant fear or worry. He strode towards her, his steps sure and quiet. The Room had finished adapting, and a small wooden door had appeared in the stone. Tom cast his eyes over it for a brief moment, and then glanced towards the girl standing beside him. 

Her gaze lingered on him. The blue light of the torches caused his dark hair to glow softly, and she repressed the urge to reach out and touch it.

He said nothing as he stepped forward and pressed his hand onto the cool wood, opening it. She followed him inside, despite her instincts.

The Room of Requirement had shifted itself into a small stone room that was just spacious enough to not be considered cramped. Dim yellow light was casted from a candle propped up on the wall, sending deep shadows across Tom’s figure.

”Is this what you were looking for?” Tom said evenly, running his fingers over the stone. The room was welcoming, but otherwise bare, it was clearly not intended to be used for long. She intently watched the shadows dance in the grooves of his hands.

After a pause, he turned to her, and he reached out to place his hands gently on her elbows, rising up her arms, momentarily holding her shoulders. His slender fingers slid up over her neck and cupped her face, tilting her head towards his inclined figure, almost lovingly. Softly, he brushed her warm cheek with the pad of his thumb, causing her eyes to dart around the room, looking everywhere but him. Tom disliked this, but appreciated the way her long lashes casted shadows over her downturned eyes. He watched as she exhaled ever so quietly.

Her cheeks burned under his touch, and it did not go unnoticed.

“Look at me,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk, unassuming and unthreatening. She complied, finally looking up at him and capturing his intense gaze. The prideful glint in his eyes had subsided and melted into something more insidious, pupils enlarged by the soft light of a singular candle in the otherwise dark room.

Slowly, his left hand fell from her face and took place under her hooded robe and pressed onto her lower back, chiding her closer to him. He could feel the steady thump of her heartbeat in her flustered face blossom under his right hand.

Their noses were nearly touching, and the girl had to strain her neck upwards to take a proper look at Tom. His breathing was soft and he rubbed slow circles into her back, holding her as she adjusted herself to slide her hands past his neck. Despite herself, she relaxed, breathing in Tom’s scent and feeling the warmth of his body surround hers. This was wrong. She knew what he had done, and yet she could not stop herself from feeling the way she did when he held her in such a vulnerable way. 

For a moment, all that existed were the flickering lights of the candle, and the two figures beneath it, swaying ever so slightly. In this secluded pocket of time, she could pretend that Tom hadn’t done anything wrong, that he was just as neat and orderly as he presented himself to be. She did not dare linger on the thought of who it had been, though she was certain how it had been done...

Tom was never truthful, but at the end of each day, he would come to her, with his eyes heavy and his hands warm, and speak to her in a way that did not require words. The two had never been friends or anything of the sort, as such relations were beyond the realm of possibility for Tom, but together they stood in the silence and the dark of the evening.

A beat of stillness passed. It always ended too soon; Tom stepped away from her, arms dropping to his sides. Instinctively, she wanted to lean forward in attempt to chase the lost contact, but she stopped herself short as he watched over her with a blank expression, which she had come to know as an indication of analysis.

“You must get back to the common room. These halls are not safe during the nighttime.”

That glint returned. 

She froze, locking her eyes with his, only barely concealing the bewilderment that flashed over her face. He was deceptive. Of  course  he was aware that she knew of his nature. How could he fail to see her inner turmoil when she allowed him to hold her like a lover?

Tom knew everything.

Tom reached out and picked up her hand with his, leaning over to place a kiss on her knuckles. Her heartbeat quickened at the affection, and she swallowed thickly, lips parted and breath wavering. Tom spared her one last unreadable look, then turned on his heel, robes swishing, and walked out of the small stone room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. His footsteps gradually faded into the distance, and the deafening silence smothered the girl once again. 

_He could kill me_ ,  she thought. _He could_ _ kill me and be done with it. I know too much already. _

But he didn’t. She was wrapped around his finger.

She cursed herself. Tom knew that she would take that knowledge the grave; her morals seemed to melt into nothingness when he was near her. What once was unbreakable became Tom Riddle’s to mould.

She unwillingly found herself wishing that he would walk back to the common room with her, sit with her on the leather sofas and watch the fire burn bright green into the night. She hoped he would not be gone too long, and that he did not explore the castle all night to escape sleep. It was a terrible thought, but she could not help it.

The sinister fact was that she did not care. He may have terrorized students whenever he wished, and reviled in the fear in other’s eyes as they looked at him, but so long as he returned to her, she did not mind.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that this doesn’t feel too ooc, i tried to make it natural for tom’s character, though technically every fic about him is ooc. anyway, thank you for reading. :)


End file.
